


Boxing Day

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 2006, Apologies to EVERYONE, Crack, Domestic, F/M, Hair Dye, Incomplete, Post-Episode: s01e14 The Christmas Invasion, chapters!! omg!!, the slow path, too meta to live, very old fic, will never be finished
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: What happened after The Christmas Invasion. Contains only 100% true facts, no lies or jokes.





	1. The Bit After The Bit After This Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Right," sighed Rose, "You didn't want things to get awkward so you had sex with my mother."

Rose dumped the Tesco bags on the kitchen counter and sank into an armchair, blondely. "So, did you keep yourself busy when I was gone?"

"Yeah." The Doctor looked up vaguely and then went back to his matchstick model of Notre Dame Cathedral. It was taking for bloody ever.

Rose poked him with a shoe. Which was on her foot, not just lying around even though it could have been so I can see why you'd be confused. But if you think about it she's sitting down at this point so the height difference works out fine. "Well? What happened?"

The flying buttresses were turning out a bit trickier than he'd expected. Bloody gothic architects. "Watched some telly. Read your books. Did a crossword. Had sex with your mother. Fed the cat. Used your moisturiser."

"WHAT?!" Rose catapulted to her feet. Not literally catapulted, mind. That'd just be silly.

"I only used a little bit. I'll get you some more if you really want." Shit, how was he going to do the stained glass? Ooh, Quality Street wrappers!

"You shagged my mum?!"

"She said I looked a bit tired still and would I like a lie down in her bed. With her. Then it turned out nakedness was expected."

"WTF?" acronymed Rose.

"I know, I feel really weird about it."

"But... but... but..." Rose didn't have the words. She just didn't. She'd been so sure they were in True Love Forever, what with all the hand-holding, though come to think of it maybe she'd been wrong about which Beatles song was considered pornographic on the now-very-small-and-disparate planet of Gallifrey.

"She's very limber for her age and build and socio-economic status."

"Shut up!"

"I didn't think you'd mind! Besides, you'd been gone for ages and there's only four books in this flat."

Rose was horrified and things like that. "But I saved you with my deus ex machina! And I still love you even though you've become younger and more conventionally attractive!"

The Doctor was as usual confused by daft human over-reactions. Bloody monkeys. "That's the kind of man I am! I'm edgy and unpredictable!"

"You're a whore," said Rose.

"Well, I've been through a lot lately! Harriet was mean to me and Mickey's a lot prettier now and I'm not ginger. Oh, Jackie said there's some hair dye in your room, but I didn't want to look in case that was awkward."

"Right," sighed Rose, "You didn't want things to get awkward so you had sex with my mother."

"Yeah," said the Doctor, who was pleased to have sorted things out and also a bit annoyed that some bastard had already nicked off with all the red Quality Street, because how was he supposed to do a crucifixion scene without any red bits? "Did you eat the red ones?"

"I think Mickey did." Rose had to admit that there was something oddly comforting about all this. It was like being in Eastenders, in which case the Doctor would almost certainly realise the error of his ways and they could get married in the Queen Vic. Although she did have an odd memory of one time in Eastenders where there was a police box and time travel, but she was too tired and annoyed to get that post-modern right now so she decided not to think about it.

"I'm going to put the kettle on."

"Alright."

Other things happened after that, but they weren't interesting enough for this narrative, much like how Jack came to be trusted by everyone and how Rose reacted to seeing alien planets for the first time. You'll just have to live with that. Sorry.


	2. The Prequel To The First Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The language games of post-structuralism have an unknown effect on the praxis of revolution; for those who are dispossessed materially, they seem to be as valuable to their liberation as smoke and mirrors," said Jackie.

The Doctor's scale matchstick model of Notre Dame cathedral was coming along nicely and he was fairly sure he could beat the original by at least two hundred years, although the windows were likely to be a problem. (There is however an earlier story set after this one where the matchstick cathedral is almost completed, in which the mystery of how the stained-glass windows will be achieved is resolved to the satisfaction of all concerned.)

Sadly, defeating an alien invasion and deposing the Prime Minister was one of those things that tended to muck up the TV schedule, so it was the cathedral or nothing, waste of trees as it was. Rose had gone off to Tesco with Mickey, which, if his local slang was up to speed, meant they were off having sex somewhere. Or ritually slaughtering a horse.

"Ooh," said Jackie, leaning against the doorframe, which had been mysteriously fixed soon after being torn into by a Christmas tree of whirling death. "That's nice. What is it?"

"It's a scale model of Notre Dame cathedral," said the Doctor, helpfully and unnecessarily if the reader is the main concern in these matters. "In France," he added, because you could never be sure with Jackie.

"I went to France once. It wasn't as gay as people say it is, but they checked us for illegal immigrants on the way back. Have you been to France?"

"Jackie," he said, looking at her over the Western Facade, "I've been to hundreds of alien planets, if not thousands. Of course I've been to France. Me and Romana went there after we accidentally got married at Gretna."

Jackie looked up, interested by this new and unexpected bit of backstory. "Oh, are you married?"

"Only technically. Though she's dead now since I blew up our home planet. Mind you, we never really got on after she left me to go and live with some imperialist lions. Women, eh? No offence."

"Does Rose know about this?"

"Yes. No. Well. Possibly. Actually, Rose does look a bit like Romana. I'm sure that's not significant in any way whatsoever."

Jackie arranged herself a bit more seductively. "I look a bit like Rose."

"Yes, you do." Why had he started building something with so many windows? Why not Blackpool Tower? Apparently he had hubris again, which might explain the occasional accent-slip, come to think of it.

"You look a bit tired," said Jackie, "Perhaps you should have a little nap?"

Bloody windows. The Doctor sighed. "Yeah, that's an idea." He was, as it would transpire, a fool. Or being seemingly-stupid while scarily intelligent and actually in control of the entire situation. Isn't ambiguity useful when the author doesn't quite know what's going on?

"In my bed," said Jackie. "It's the nicest bed."

"Alright," said the Doctor, who for some reason couldn't see where this was going (possibly) even though he could see a bit more of Jackie's breasts than he could before she'd started leaning forwards like that. Not that he'd ever think things like that what with being asexual and all.

Anyone arriving here from the previous story that takes place after this one probably knows what happens next. Except what they will have failed to realise is that the Doctor lied to Rose about what happened in case she got angry or sad or one of those other distressing emotions humans are so prone to. For while Jackie had indeed been rather forward in her advances, it was in fact the Doctor himself who suggested that Jackie should get into the bed with him, although she was quite keen on this plan and may eventually have suggested it on her own anyway. But we'll probably never know.

Many readers will be hoping at this point that the inevitable sexual acts are dealt with in a discreet and tasteful manner, but it is important to remember how positive it is for fiction to portray the lively sexuality of middle-aged women. After all, Rose will one day get old and be buried on a mountain like in Highlander, which is something Rose surely understands and possibly looks forward to.

Anyway, the important thing is that they done sex.

It was all very technical, and there were some parts involved for which there are no good euphemisms. Everyone was comfortable with his or her own body image and Jackie was one of those sensible people who wouldn't shag an alien without the appropriate accessories because frankly she doesn't know where he's been. Nothing happened that was anatomically unlikely, and the Doctor in no way said anything that might possibly have sounded like "Romana". It was also very nice for both parties.

"Y'know," said the Doctor, "It took me years to work out there was more involved than just holding hands. Which does beg a few questions about that minimum of one child I have yet never mention. Although there are a few decades I have very little memory of."

"I can barely remember 1990," said Jackie, "I feel like there were nuns involved but I'm not sure."

"This is all a bit post-modern," said the Doctor, who occasionally worried that he was getting a bit too intertextual in his old age.

"The language games of post-structuralism have an unknown effect on the praxis of revolution; for those who are dispossessed materially, they seem to be as valuable to their liberation as smoke and mirrors," said Jackie.

"That's what Leela always used to say," agreed the Doctor.

"You know," said Jackie, "Sometimes it's a bit trying having to be thicker than Rose to make her feel good about herself. If only someone would act as some sort of catalyst to help me realise my inner potential and thus expand my self-esteem."

"Can't help you with that, love," said the Doctor. "I could take Rose away again if you want, though?"

"That'd be nice. Ooh, you could take her to France. She'd like that."

"But we could go anywhere in the entire universe."

"That's a point. How about Ibiza?"

"Fine, whatever. Have you seen my mole?" It was important to mention the mole, he felt, what with the nakedness and all.

"It's a very nice mole. Is it new?"

"Yes. Not in the scary way though, just new like having new shoes."

"You could have it removed."

"Why, is it ugly?"

"No, it's nice. I told you it's nice. You're very shallow, aren't you?"

"I'm not shallow, I'm just worried about minor and insignificant details. Hey, you know that thing where you have no idea how to end a conversation?"

"Yes," said Jackie.


	3. The Bit After The First Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, that’s right, just because I’m Scottish I’ve got to be dark and manipulative. Of course.”
> 
> “…but you’re not Scottish,” said Rose.
> 
> “…right.” The Doctor looked a bit confused.

There was indeed hair dye in Rose's room, as mentioned in the previous bit before the prequel. I bet you'd forgotten, eh? It was one of those hardcore bleaches like the sort you need if you've got roots as dark as Jackie Tyler's. 

"You could go blonde," said Rose, who despite being blonde herself didn't know it only takes an e on the end when it's about a woman. 

"I don't want to go blond, I've been blond," whined the Doctor, who did know about the e on the end and the fact that he didn't need one. "I've never been ginger."

"I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me," sighed Jackie. The Doctor winked at her, which squicked Rose immensely. Because, eew. 

"You should stay within three shades of your natural colour," said Rose, hoping to divert the conversation from possible horrid directions. 

"We can't use this one anyway, it's Garnier."

"So?"

"They're Nestle."*

Rose sighed. Damn the Doctor and his sense of ethics. Ethics which apparently had no problem with shagging someone’s mother even if you were clearly in True Love with that person as evidenced by all the hand-holding.

“Alright,” she said. “The chemist’s open until four today.”

So everyone collected the appropriate combination of coats, hats, mittens, gloves, scarves, mobile phones, keys, purses, loose change, shoes, handbags, and so on, and the ones who had been socialised to do so checked their make-up and the one that hadn’t felt a bit lost about the whole thing. 

 

Anyway, they got to the shop. Eventually. Jackie picked up a basket even though they were only in for one item because you might as well and who knows what amazing things they might find in the chemist’s. 

“Fantastic!” said the Doctor, then remembered that wasn’t his catchphrase anymore, and felt a bit sad. 

“I think you’re a bit dark for ginger,” said Jackie, helpfully.

“Oh, that’s right, just because I’m Scottish I’ve got to be dark and manipulative. Of _course_.”

“…but you’re not Scottish,” said Rose.

“…right.” The Doctor looked a bit confused.

“Do all planets have a Scotland?”

“Surprisingly few, actually. Most of them have a Home Counties though. I’ve never been sure what that’s about.”

Rose nodded. It was always best just to agree with him. 

“We’d have to do your eyebrows as well,” said Jackie.

“What, Scottish?”

“No, ginger.”

“We could try a darker red,” suggested Rose. “Here’s one. It says the natural beauty of Harlot Red will draw eyes to you and make you a sexier and more confident woman.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to be one of those,” said the Doctor. “But it’s not ginger. I’ve set my heart on ginger. Just the left one, mind, the right one’s still a bit unsure about the whole thing.”

Rose was also a bit unsure about the whole thing, but was still upset at him so was quite happy to let him ruin his hair. She licked her teeth in that weird way that she does to convey any emotion whatsoever.

“I think we should just bleach it for a bit and then wash it out before he goes blond,” said Jackie, who also knew about the e on the end. She picked up a nice sort of medium-seeming one with a happy-looking woman on the box.

“I don’t have any money, by the way,” said the Doctor.

“What do you mean you don’t have any money?”

“I’ve got about three quid on me, but it’s not legal tender yet.”

“Rose can pay,” said Jackie. 

And she did.

 

“Hello,” said the woman on the till.

“Hello,” chorused everyone else. Then they looked a bit embarrassed. And rightly so.

“Nice day for it,” said the woman. “Were you on the roof yesterday?”

“Nah,” said Jackie. “Rose was on a spaceship though. I would have been, they just left me.”

“That’s nice,” said the woman. “It’s a shame about the Prime Minister, isn’t it? I liked her. I think it’s just gossip, really. What sort of a complete bastard would say things like that about such a nice woman?”

Rose paid for the hair dye, and they all went back to the flat. 

 

 

“I think he’ll just look gay,” said Jackie.

“No he won’t,” said Rose.

“Well, he _is_ a bit camp.”

“He’s not camp! He just has a wardrobe full of old frocks!”

“Does he? I always suspected.”

“I’m upset,” said Rose, pausing slightly as though waiting for some overbearing plinky piano music to kick in. 

“Why’s that?” asked Jackie.

“Because you shagged my boyfriend.”

“Oh, Rose,” she sighed, “It’s just that you’re not here that much and Mickey gets lonely.”

Rose’s eyes went huge, slightly creasing the many layers of mascara and eyeliner. “You shagged Mickey?!”

“I thought you knew that.”

“No!” shrieked Rose. “I was upset because you shagged my boyfriend, not my other boyfriend! Now I’m just more upset!”

“Oh, well,” said Jackie. “These things happen. And you should be angry at them, not me. Blood is thicker than water.”

“It’s not thicker than-“

“Towels!” said the Doctor, arriving with some.

“He’s got a lovely sense of timing, hasn’t he?” said Jackie, admiringly.

 

Everyone piled into the bathroom and Rose opened the window in case they all asphyxiated. 

Then there was shirt-removal and water and bending over the sink. It was all very erotic. If you like that sort of thing.

“Watch it doesn’t go green,” said Jackie.

“Nah, then you just put ketchup on it and wrap your head in clingfilm,” said the Doctor, who knew science and didn’t wonder about why all three of them had to be in such a small room when it’s perfectly possible for one person to dye their own hair unaided.

“Have we got any ketchup?” asked Jackie as they left the bathroom to go and watch the telly while waiting for the chemistry to work its magic.***

The TV was mostly about the alien invasion and Harriet Jones’ failing health. Channel Four was showing old bits of _Big Brother_ but the Doctor sighed dramatically about that complained that the Daleks had ruined reality TV for him forever.

“We could watch a video,” said Rose.

“No, we might get caught up in it and then his hair’d go green and we’d have to waste the ketchup,” said Jackie. “Oh, how long are we leaving it anyway? I always go about five minutes longer than it says to.”

The Doctor looked at her hair and laughed in a way that suggested he knew she was clearly lying. Which she was, but she took offence anyway.

“Shut up, you,” said Rose. 

Jackie sighed. “Don’t start a fight, love. Christmas was so peaceful and now you have to go and start a fight on Boxing Day.”

“It wasn’t peaceful,” said Rose, “Aliens invaded and a third of the population almost died.”

“But they didn’t,” said Jackie.

“And the Doctor became a whore and then he overthrew the government.”

“That’s true,” agreed Jackie. “He’s not very nice, really, is he?”

“I’m sitting right next to you!” said the Doctor. 

Jackie patted his knee condescendingly. “I know you are, sweetheart.”

“Am I ginger yet?”

“You’re sort of… orange,” said Rose, feeling a wee bit déjà vu about this conversation.

“The future’s bright,” said Jackie, amiably.

“I think you should wash it out,” said Rose.

Then a cliff-hanger happened.

 

 

 

 

*The Doctor boycotts Nestle**.  
**Yes, Nestle also make the Quality Street that were so crucial to the plot in part one, but the alternative is Roses, which leads to distressing mental images, so you'll just have to put it down to the trauma of not being ginger or something.   
***Not _that_ sort of chemistry. What are you like?


	4. A Bit Where Not Much Happens Except At The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It started off quite good, but now it’s just turning into a farce and it’s getting way too self-referential.”

No, it wasn’t really a cliff-hanger, it was just Mickey at the door. But it could have been a cliff-hanger, since that sort of thing happened a lot around the Doctor. Less so, recently, which occasionally made him a bit sad, but still often enough to be disconcerting. 

“Why is the Doctor orange?” asked Mickey.

“It’s ginger,” said the Doctor. 

“I’d have said more a sort of strawberry-blonde,” said Rose, spitefully.

“It’s _ginger_. And there’s no e on the end if it’s about a man.”

“I hate you,” said Rose, and stropped off to the kitchen. 

“What was that about?”

“The Doctor cheated on her,” said Jackie. “He’s not very nice now.” 

“I am nice! I’m nice and I’m ginger.”

“Oh,” said Mickey, “So he’s horrible and orange.”

“I’m going to wash this stuff out,” said the Doctor, sulkily. 

Mickey sat down next to Jackie, but not in a seductive way or anything.

“I hope she’s put the kettle on,” said Jackie. 

“I said he was horrible but she never listens to me anymore. She just wants to go off in time and space and have adventures and stuff. Is it alright if I have an emotional moment?” 

“As long as you clean up after yourself.”

Mickey had an emotional moment. Bless.

 

Rose was not making tea. She too was having an emotional moment. It had been at least several hours since the Doctor had looked at her in a non-platonic way and she was beginning to wonder that he’d gone off her. Would there be no more perfect and beautiful physical consummations of their love? Rose briefly wondered if this contradicted things she had said or done earlier, but what’s the point of telling a story if you don’t trample over your own established continuity? 

She was having deep inner emotional turmoil and whatnot. It was all very interesting and the sort of thing you could quite happily watch all day without craving alien monsters or anything. She sobbed and wailed and got snot the way people never do when they cry on the telly. Not that she was on the telly, obviously, because this was all real. Yes. Buffy’s fictional, though. 

Her mascara ran a bit, streaking across her lovely face. Her pain was deep and more important than anyone else’s. She sniffled bravely and wished that she still had magic time-powers so that she could kill everyone. 

 

Meanwhile the Doctor was ginger and a bit put out. “It started off quite good, but now it’s just turning into a farce and it’s getting way too self-referential.”

Mostly he was upset that his hair was indeed orange rather than a natural-looking ginger even though he had used science and everything. Also it didn’t go with his eyebrows or his skin. And he had a terrible feeling that something dramatic was about to happen, like another cliff-hanger. He should probably go and console Rose in her loud emotional state, but that was a bit daunting as an idea. 

“This bit’s just padding, isn’t it?” he whined. “I might as well run up and down a corridor for twenty-five minutes.”

“We could always dye over it in a darker colour,” said Jackie, who was a bit oblivious sometimes.

“I should have tried for auburn. Or gone to a hairdressers.”

“You could just kill yourself and see if that works,” suggested Mickey, who was still in this story despite not having spoken for several lines.

“Romana could have managed ginger.”

“Who’s Romana?”

“That’s the wife,” said Jackie. 

“I liked the old one better,” said Mickey. “He was a git but at least you knew where you stood with him.”

 

It was at this point that Rose returned from the kitchen to announce that she was going to have a magic and most likely alien baby. Because people like that sort of thing.


	5. Another Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s the last of the sodding well Time Lords, it needs a name with gravitas.”

So Rose was going to give birth to a magic alien baby. Not right away, obviously, but she was impregnated with one, so it was a distinct possibility. 

“Finally!” said Jackie, with happy joy and so on. Rose was after all pushing twenty and Jackie had been starting to worry. 

Mickey and the Doctor looked at each other. Not sexually or anything, more with a sort of suspicion. Suspicion that was in fact founded on actual facts. So more like knowledge than suspicion, but not certain knowledge so maybe more like theory. But ‘they looked at each other theoretically’ doesn’t really work as a sentence. At least not in the way it’s intended to. 

“It’s an alien baby,” said Rose again just to clarify that bit because she’d noticed the theoretical looks. “I know this somehow.” She did as well, because that’s what happens with alien babies. It’s been proven by science and so on. 

“What are you going to call it?” asked Jackie.

“I haven’t really thought,” said Rose. “Maybe Chantelle or Kaylee or Kylie-Anne-Marie-Jordan-Kimberly. It helps that I know it’s a girl,” she added. 

“Bollocks,” said the Doctor. 

“No, people would pick on it,” said Jackie.

“It’s the last of the sodding well Time Lords, it needs a name with gravitas.”

“Like ‘The’?” asked Mickey, who was understandably upset by all of this.

“The is a damn good name,” said the Doctor. He’d been at the wine between chapters. “Not for nothing was it consistently the most popular name on Gallifrey.”

“The Tyler,” sighed Rose, happily.

“It’s pretty,” agreed Jackie. “But what about ?” asked Jackie.

“What about what?”

“?” she pronounced. “Lends a bit of mystery to the character.”

“You can’t call a child ?”

“Just for it’s surname. It could be called Kaylee or something. Kaylee ?”

“We’re calling it The!” yelped the Doctor. It was unmanly of him, but such were his mysterious alien ways.

“The Kaylee ?” said Jackie.

“I like Romana as a name,” said Mickey, spitefully.

“You can’t call it after his ex,” said Jackie.

“WTF?” said Rose.

Jackie hand-waved. “I thought you knew about that.”

“No.”

“He’s really old,” said Mickey. “Of course there’s an ex. I bet there’s lots of them.”

Rose had to admit that this was a point, but not something she’d actually given much – or indeed any – thought to. 

“It’s alright,” said the Doctor, “She’s dead anyway.”

“Oh, good,” said Rose. “Well, not good for you or for her.”

“She was really nice,” sighed the Doctor, who was pleased to be getting some emotional involvement in the story. “We were very close. Like four hearts that beat as… one.” 

“But she’s dead and you’d hate her if she wasn’t, right?” asked Rose. 

“Yes,” he lied.

“What was she like?” asked Jackie, in case the viewers at home had forgotten the answer from when she had asked earlier. No, she did ask. You should go back and check if you don't believe me.

“Blonde,” said the Doctor. “Blonde and pretty and young-looking. A bit like Rose, really.” 

Mickey had seen this episode of ‘Angel’ and thus knew where the whole thing was going. Well, he could see where it might be going, but hoped that Rose wasn't going to give birth to something that would give birth to an evil god. But it could happen. 

“Well,” said Jackie, “That’s… nice.”

Rose sniffled. It was all very sad. “I’m going to give birth to the last of the Time Lords,” she said in a desperate attempt to get people to pay attention to her again. “Well, half Time Lord anyway.”

“Yeah, about that…” said the Doctor.

“Oh, God, what now?” said Mickey. The whole thing was starting to piss him off. 

“Did I tell you about my mother?”

“No,” said Rose. She was getting a bit annoyed as well. 

“She’s from Birmingham,” he said. “As in the city.”

“…” said Rose.

“I try not to mention it to anyone except ginger Americans,” he explained. “It’s a thing. An ineffable alien thing. So Rose is only having a quarter of a Time Lord.” He blinked a bit, because he’d had an amazing alcohol tolerance back in the day. “I mean it’ll be full-sized, but mostly human.” 

Rose pouted. There was something oddly disappointing about all this. It wasn’t what she’d expected, after all. She’d been thinking more along the lines of having a godlike child with magical powers. Poor little The Kaylee.


End file.
